Cruising the Strip by Radclyffe, Karin Kallmaker Page A

about nearly being borrowed by that hot butch.”
    Brandy grinned and shrugged. “She was awfully cute. But I really missed you, and I was thinking about your ankle and how you must be so sorry to be forced to sit at home. I know you wouldn’t have minded if she’d borrowed me for a night, but….” Brandy hadn’t been able to admit to Tess that she’d backed out because she’d realized that nobody could touch her, reach into her, the way Tess did. The okay-to-be-borrowed rule was Tess’s, even if neither of them had used it so far. She didn’t want to mess up a really good thing by appearing possessive all of a sudden.
    Tess took her hand, her expression turned serious again, and Brandy wondered what was bothering her. There was something, but she trusted Tess would bring it up. Tess wasn’t afraid to talk about anything, and Brandy had already unlearned many bad habits of resentful silence and passive-aggressive fighting that she’d picked up from her dysfunctional family.
    All Tess said was, “I have a Snickers bar in my suitcase. We could go back to the room for dessert.”
    “Oh, I’m having dessert in our room, most definitely.” For just a moment, Brandy didn’t feel awkward as she shifted in her chair suggestively. Tess’s quick little exhale was quite gratifying.
    The check paid and their intentions declared, they were back in the elevator when a crowd of curvy, slinky, high-heeled, coiffed and elaborately made-up women of all heights and colors crowded on with them.
    “I want to dance all night,” a bright-eyed Latina said.
    “Our own private disco, in the penthouse.”
    “Who has the invitation?”
    The Latina made eye contact with Tess. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
    Tess shrugged. “Probably from around.”
    “Is that your girlfriend?”
    Tess tucked Brandy’s hand under her arm. “Yep.”
    “She looks really happy to see you.”
    Brandy blushed to the roots of her hair. All the women were giving her the once-over now. “I’m always happy to see her.”
    “Lucky her,” the Latina said. “Maybe I’ll get a dance later?”
    “We’re not—” Brandy realized they’d missed their floor. The doors opened to a blast of music and the women poured out of the elevator with delighted whoops. The security guard looked helpless as they pushed past him.
    Caught up in the rush, Brandy found herself jostled along to the parquet dance floor that had been laid out in the suite’s living room. It was packed with women, some of whom weren’t wearing much, not that Brandy minded.
    “Do you want to stay?”
    “Why not?” Tess tucked her little purse down Brandy’s capacious front pocket. “Dance with me, baby.”
    It was heaven. They hadn’t been on vacation in so long, and even when they did get to dance, they were almost always still on the clock—being a tour guide meant there was no “off.”
    She swayed in Tess’s arms, pulling her close, and closer still. Other women were making out as the music pulsed around them, so Brandy felt perfectly natural pulling Tess down to her for the first of a dozen long, luscious kisses.
    “You always wind me up,” Tess said. “I’m so torn. I want to dance all night with you, but I also want to…” Her hand moved between them and Brandy shuddered as she felt Tess gripping the toy through her pants. “What a wonderful dilemma.”
    “Just because we’re getting older and wiser doesn’t mean we have to be silly.” Brandy took Tess by the hand, leading her away from the dance floor.
    “If we leave we might not be able to get back in.”
    Brandy veered past the impromptu bar. Where there was a penthouse there had to be bedrooms. Before Tess, she’d had women in the fitness room storage closet, behind the pool house, once even on the back of a Sea-Doo. Sneaking into a bedroom for a not-so-quickie was positively tame.
    “Oh, you are in a mood tonight, aren’t you?” Tess didn’t seem the least bit displeased when she figured out what